


The Holly and the Ivy

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Christmas Fanfic, Fluff, Holiday Cheer, Potionless - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Winter, butterfly bog, christmas drabble, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5518160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a strange and magical fact that the longest, coldest, darkest nights can be the warmest and brightest when certain loved ones are near… </p>
<p>Written for the Strange Magic Secret Santa on Tumblr =)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Holly and the Ivy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ai_Kue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ai_Kue/gifts).



> This is dedicated to the lovely and kind and wonderful Ai_Kue, who was my Secret Santa and who has been *such* a joy to know. All my "lofe" to you this holiday season, my dear. 
> 
> All my love to all of you in this fandom - you have made this entire year strange and magical and so full of love <3

The Fields were well known for being a bright place, full of song and color and light. At least, so was the case in Summer and Spring and Fall. Now, in the midst of Winter, there was the silence of snow, and the world was a canvas of blue-black skies and stretches of glistening white snow, stark and clean and rendered with icy purity. 

But as for light…the Fields could still claim that.

Snow and ice and frost sparkled under the silvery blue-white glow of the moon, the pinpricks of stars studding the velvet darkness of the heavens like diamonds. It was a world of ice and stars, the air cold and sharp and bracing with a clear crisp snap that only deep Winter could give, waking one to the stark, frozen beauty all around them.

Dawn bundled down further into her mossy cloak, the rabbit fur inside of it a warm, insulating softness, and stamped her boots, her cheeks crimson and her eyes bright as the stars. Winter was undeniably lovely, but  _goodness_ , there was only so much cold one could take! “Sunny! Any lucky yet?”

Deep from within the thicket she stood by, her beau gave a small grunt. “Almost done, baby-girl. Man, these roots are  _stubborn_.”

Dawn’s cheeks glowed even more, and she nuzzled her face deeper into her moss and fur, hiding her delighted smile. That a simple endearment from him could  _still_  do so much to her…!  _Oh, I love him._

She bounced on her toes, both fluttery with energy and to get some feeling back into her feet. “Are you sure you don’t need me to help –?”

“Nah, I’ve got this,” Sunny assured her, though his voice was somewhat strained. “’Sides, I don’t wanna risk your wings getting caught here–“

“They’re bundled up with the rest of me!” Dawn protested, rolling her eyes. “And you  _know_  that Fairy wings aren’t  _nearly_  as delicate as everyone makes them out to be –“

“There’s a difference – _huff_  – between not needing to go on Migration –  _hup_ – and being able to handle –  _c’mon, ya stupid root_  – absolutely  _everything_ Winter dishes out,” Sunny observed between grunts, the thicket rustling with each mighty tug from within its depths. “I don’t wanna take any chances, Dawn. Besides, I really  _am_  almost done, I just need to get my knife to get through these last few inches –“

Dawn gave a happy squeal. “I can’t wait to see it!”

_Oh_ , it was all going to be so  _wonderful_  – her first Yule with Sunny! Well, all right, technically not the first. Fairies hadn’t  _needed_  to Migrate for a while now, what with their sun salve, but Daddy had persisted with it for the sheer sake of tradition. That is, until the hassle of it had finally proven too much, what with how everything was weighed down with problematic factors.

(Dawn had heard a few sly mutters about her father’s girth being one of those factors, but she had ignored them out of loyalty. And if she started baking more sweets during the Fall season, well,  _that_  was just sheer coincidence.)

The point was, she and Sunny had many happy memories of seeing the Solstice through. But this was truly her first Yule with Sunny as her honest to god  _boyfriend_ , and  _that_  made a  _heck_  of a difference in Dawn’s humble opinion.

There was a triumphant cry from the thicket, and then Sunny was scrambling through it, his jacket bearing a few snags but his grin wide.  _“Got it!”_

Dawn practically danced over to him, her feet as light as her heart just then. Her eyes widened as she took in the bounty clutched in her boyfriends arms, and her cheeks were round and red as cherries as she beamed with delight. “Sunny, these are  _perfect!”_

He smiled at her rapture and looked down proudly at the holly in his hands, the berries perfectly round and red, the jagged leaves shining verdantly. “It’s a good batch this season, that’s for sure –“

Dawn plopped down in the snow and took out a moderately sized bundle deep from within from her cloak, her fingers nimble despite the cold and the gloves on her hands, a loan from Sunny. “Let’s see how it will look with the others!”

She finished with the last tie, and Sunny helped her spread out the contents of the bundle, and both of them surveyed the spread before them, the moon’s glow as strong as the sun’s.

Despite being stuffed into the package, the twine of ivy was still fresh and lush as ever, the white berries of the mistletoe looking like tiny little moons under the lunar glow. Sunny’s meticulous search and rescue had yielded wonderful results, and Dawn’s careful packing and preserving had kept them looking freshly picked. The sigh the young Fairy Princess gave was deep with satisfaction. “These are going to make the most  _beautiful_ garland ever.”

She looked at Sunny, her eyes soft with unfathomable tenderness as she looked at the Elf who had braved the cold and the dark and grabbing thorns. “And it’s all because of you, Sunny.”

Sunny’s huff of laughter hung in the air like a cloud, and he ducked his head bashfully. “It was  _your_  idea –“

“But I could have never done it without  _you_ ,” Dawn assured him, and then plucked up a sprig of mistletoe. She dangled it over his head and smiled at him, both teasing and true. “So…let me thank you.”

Sunny’s cheeks glowed as red as the holly he had just rescued, but his grin was equal parts bashful and beaming as he rose to meet her lips, and their kiss was soft and warm and sweet in a world where all was cold and hard…

Sunny sighed happily against her mouth and then tilted his head back to take her in. His breath caught in his throat as the night sky silhouetted her, her eyes rivaling the stars and sheer love in her face shining like the moon, the glow of both an almost tangible thing.

Dawn felt her cheeks grow warm once more at Sunny’s awestruck gaze, and she laughed, bright and clear as a bell across the frozen Fields as she began to pack up the bundle lest the plants caught any unsightly chill. “I think some spiced cider sounds pretty good right now, don’t you?”

Sunny grinned at her, standing up and dusting off his legs, once again deeply thankful that the snow wasn’t so deep as to dwarf him. “Heck yeah it does, and I know the  _perfect_  place just for that –“

“A little café called  _Right In Front Of Your Fireplace?”_   Dawn enquired, the struggle to hide her grin a meager one.

Sunny gasped theatrically. “Ohhhh, so you  _do_  know about it!”

Dawn giggled and tugged on his gloved hand with her own, her fingers twining with his, clumsy and heartfelt. “C’mon, Sunny-Wunny-Bunny Bear, let’s head home and make that garland.”

Sunny’s smile deepened, and he happily let her lead him, his cheeks cold but his heart as warm as the hand she held.  _Home…_

It seemed so much more so now that  _she_ was there. Dawn had always meant light and warmth to him, and now, in the cold of Winter, it had never been truer. He looked at the little bump in her coat where he knew the bundle was nestled, all snug and warm, and thought of the plant that had been such a devil to get but had brought her such joy.  _Holly_ …

His mother had once told him long ago that all flowers had meanings to them, and the sprig of holly over their merrily crackling fireplace had always been more than just mere decoration.  _“It means domestic happiness, sunbeam. When you find that special someone, you two are gonna be picking some holly of your own…”_

Sunny smiled, his heart giving a warm pulse in his chest –  _Mom had always liked Dawn_ – and clasped his sweetheart’s hand even tighter. “Yeah…let’s head home.”  

* * *

The Bog King of the Dark Forest leaned against the stonework of the fireplace, looking far too intrigued by the flask he held to the flames light to be worried about any sparks from the hearth. “So you put this on your wings?”

Marianne nodded and tugged at his hand, drawing him closer to where she sat so she could snuggle up against him, nuzzling her cheek against the moss he had draped over him. God, it was _ridiculous_  how good he looked cloaked in it. “Yeah, and sometimes on our skin. But we usually just wear heavier clothing –“

Bog shook the flask slightly, the warm, golden liquid inside sloshing about a bit, blue eyes rapt and entranced by the sparkle of it in the fire’s glow. “I thought your wings weren’t supposed to get wet –“

“I’ve told you, our wings are fine if they get damp during bathing or swimming. It’s annoying and might take a long time to dry, but it’s not  _too_ bad. There’s no  _real_ damage. But it’s rain we’ve got to worry about, rain and the cold.” Marianne took the bottle back from him, a smile curving across her lips as she looked down at it. “Hence the sun salve. It doesn’t really get our wings wet, anyway. It…protects them. It makes a barrier against the frost so our scales won’t flake off –“

“Fireroot is like that,” Bog observed, leaning back on one hand and tugging her close with the other, wrapping the moss around her as well so that she was tucked warm and tight beside him. “Only we consume it, put it in our brews and the like. It warms us from the inside out. Sometimes we put it on our hide, but the leaves can scorch if not ground fine enough –“

“Sounds pleasant,” Marianne snorted as she nuzzled deeper into warm, spongy plushness and dry, shifting scales. Sometimes it seemed like goblins enjoyed seeking out any way in which to court danger, even in the midst of Winter, a harsh enough time as it was.

Although, to be fair, Marianne was sure her ancestors would have said the same thing about her, crying out in shock and horror to see her sitting in the darkness, in the midst of Winter, keeping company the King of the Dark Forest…

She cocked her head at Bog. “So…fireroot  _is_  dangerous, but it  _can_ be consumed?”

Bog shrugged, his scales crackling beneath his blanket, dry after exposure to the cold. “The Dark Forest has used it for generations now. Just don’t eat the leaves raw, and you’ll be fine.”

Marianne gave a thoughtful hum. “Do you think a trade could happen? The brownies and elves don’t have wings like we do, and the sun slave can only do so much. Brownies don’t normally wear clothes, and elves are closer to the snow –“

“I’ll see if our stores can handle it,” Bog promised, his nose bumping against an ear as her nuzzled her hair. “What did those creatures do when the Royal Family of Fairy Kingdom departed for Migration?”

“Left to fend for themselves,” Marianne said, a disapproving scowl to her voice. “Dad made sure they had plenty of sun salve, but like I said, there was only so much that can do. I was so happy when we got the sun salve perfected, I hated going on Migration, I felt like we were  _abandoning_  them –“

“A ruler’s place in harsh times is with his subjects,” Bog murmured against the crown of her head, his eyes watching the dance of the flames. “And nothing is harsher than Winter.” 

Marianne let her arm snake up his neck, torn between thankfulness that her long sleeved tunic didn’t catch on his spikes and wishing that she could feel him on her skin like she was used to. Bog gave a low, growling purr of appreciation as her fingers scratched at his scalp, her fingernails rasping over the scales there, and Marianne smothered a smile before arching a brow. “On that note, when will you head down to the tunnels? Is it even safe for us to stay in the Castle?”

“As long as we keep the fire strong, we’ll be fine here.” He nodded lazily to the spread of hide and furs around them on the floor. “It’s not like we’re in any danger of not keeping warm.”

_Damn straight, your majesty._  Marianne grinned and tugged one of the furs to her, a bristly but wonderfully thick weight as it slid up her thighs and over her wings. She wanted to keep them unbound as long as she could, and these furs definitely helped with that. The various covers and throws that the goblins dragged up for each Winter were shaggier and dirtier than the elegant cloaks and coats that fairies favored, but they served their purpose exceptionally well. Marianne couldn’t remember ever feeling cozier…

Though having a certain Goblin beside her  _certainly_  didn’t hurt…

With that in mind, Marianne leaned her cheek against his chest, feeling the pulse of his heart under her palm as she slid her hand down to stroke slow circles there, the chafe of her skin on his hide dry and soft. “Yeah…” she said softly. “No danger of that…”

She bit down on a smile as she felt Bog grow warmer still with a flush that owed nothing to the fire before clearing his throat. “Um, however, the…the Castle  _does_  get a wee bit brittle in the Winter. If the snow fall is heavy enough, there’s a chance of the bark growing soft and caving in, mold developing…I only visit sparingly, to make sure all is well before I return to the tunnels.” 

Marianne nuzzled closer still, nudging her head into the crook of his neck. “And I can’t go into the tunnels?” She enquired, her tone a cross between a mock pout and a shy vulnerability. 

Bog caught one of her hands and brought it to his mouth, his lips brushing over the gentle ridges of her knuckles. “The tunnels are dark, and often cold – we only can have fires in some caverns, too much smoke is dangerous. I…I thought such a place would be discomforting for you.”

“For a Fairy,” Marianne corrected softly, her fingers splaying and flexing in his grip but otherwise making no move to take her hand back. Bog gave no reply, but continued to nuzzle at her hand, and she sighed as she took it away to stroke at the sharp line of his jaw, cradling his cheek. “I’d be fine. The dark doesn’t bother me” – even if it was the dark of going into the earth, and not a night sky – “and the cold…well, I mean, as long as I had  _you_ there, I would be fine. Though –”

“You can take care of yourself,” Bog added, his lips curving and his eyes warm even as his voice was dry.

Marianne smiled impishly. “Yeah, that too.”

Bog chuckled, and Marianne melted a little bit at the sound, at sharing such warm darkness with him, such unquestionable intimacy. Fairies didn’t look forward to the Winter, but if  _this_  was what she had to look forward to…

“I…” Marianne quickly looked at Bog, who ducked his head, an oddly bashful look stealing over his features. “I also…wanted to look at it. Just a bit more. I mean, we can’t take it down to the tunnels, not when she hung it  _here_  –“

Marianne had to bite down hard on her cheek to keep her delight at bay, and lifted eyes that glowed with triumph and gratitude and affection to the garland that now stretched over the fireplace, the ivy and holly twining and curling about each other beautifully.  _You did good, Dawn._  No doubt her little sister would swoon with happiness when Marianne told her about Bog’s sincere affection for the decoration.

Still, the smile in her voice was teasing as she laid her head back upon his chest. “Y’know, first the boutonnière, and now the garland…you better hope none of your enemies find out that the fearsome and almighty Bog King’s weakness are arts and crafts projects by the youngest Fairy Princess –“

Bog tugged at her ear for that. “A good King recognizes all homages and tributes given to him, Tough Girl –” 

“Especially when he’s a big softy,” Marianne murmured, her eyes sly and warm.

“Only sparingly,” Bog growled back, his glower negated from the mirth in his eyes. Marianne snorted, and his snarl dropped as he gave a soft, rueful laugh, looking back at the fire. “Though in truth, your sister makes a certain… _affection_ …very easy. If it hadn’t been for her…”

He lapsed into silence, and Marianne knew what he was thinking. Even if it had been due to the Potion, Dawn’s sweetness to him had opened him back to Love, after all those years of self-loathing and pain.  For that alone, Bog would always harbor a soft spot for her little sister.  

Marianne’s smile lost any teasing edge as a warm, deep ache of love spread through her chest, and she looked at him with deep affection gleaming in her amber eyes. “Y’know…Dawn’s not the only one who’s pretty damn easy to love.”

Unsurprisingly, Bog’s cheeks flushed hard at that, and Marianne’s smile grew into a grin before she slid over onto his lap, curling his arms about her. Bog, after a few moments of what was undoubtedly internal flailing, silently surrendered and held her tight, tucking his face next to hers.

Marianne’s eyes sank closed, her smile a gentle curve upon her lips and her voice just as soft. “There’s a reason why holly and ivy are chosen for Winter garlands, you know. All flowers and plants have meaning to them. Holly signifies domestic happiness, and ivy…” she flushed a bit, but continued on, “…Ivy means fidelity.”

_It also meant wedded love, but like **hell**  she was gonna bring that up –_

Bog cocked his head curiously, and Marianne focused on continuing her tale and weaving their fingers together. “When woven together as a garland, they’re supposed to bring good fortune to a home in the midst of even the coldest and darkest seasons. It’s…it’s like a promise, I guess. To have happiness in your home even when the weather is harsh, to keep faith that hope and Spring will come back, even if everything is cold and barren for now…”

“Ivy has that meaning in the Forest too,” Bog said softly, and Marianne shivered at how his murmur brushed over her ear. “Fidelity, loyalty. We use it in ceremonies, pledges. If two goblins make a promise and a cord of it is wrapped around their hands, it renders their oath unbreakable. It’s been used in all sorts of pacts, from treaties between kingdoms to weddings –“

His voice abruptly stopped, and Marianne felt her heart flutter as he shifted beneath her, clearly awkward over such a reveal. She quickly lifted his hand to her mouth and gave it a soft kiss, her voice warm against his gnarled knuckles. “Sounds like a good tradition.”

Bog relaxed, and she felt his smile on her neck. Marianne sighed long and deep, her contentment as tangible as slipping into a warm bath, sliding over her and soothing all her senses. Her eyes, almost drooping in satisfaction, lazily wandered back to where Dawn’s garland hung, the light from the fire dancing over it softly, the ivy casting spidery, wavering shadows upon the ceiling.  _Ivy…_

Now that she thought of it…such a plant was achingly appropriate for her and Bog. Trust, once broken, was hard to heal, and both of them had suffered such a wound with false fiancés and glittering potions. But trust reclaimed was just as powerful as trust untainted…

Roland certainly hadn’t honored fidelity, but Bog…

Marianne was absolutely certain that evenif Dad  _had_ continued the stupid Migration, even if she  _had_  had to leave for the Winter after meeting Bog…their bond would have stayed just as strong as ever. Darkness and cold and time apart would be just another challenge in the adventure that was their love.

But seeing as she  _didn’t_  have to go on Migration…

Marianne smiled and tilted her face back so that her lips brushed the underside of his jaw, the thorny stubble there catching slightly on her skin as she spoke. “You wanna know another good thing about not going on Migration?”

Bog looked down at her, his brow raised and a smile pulling at his lips. “Do tell.”

“I don’t have to worry about leaving you.” Marianne wriggled closer to him, tucking her head beneath his chin, her ear pressed to his chest so that she heard the slight stutter to his heartbeat that her words had wrought. Her voice was only just heard over the crackle of the fire. “Winters won’t be any kind of bad if I get to spend them with you.”

Bog’s breath caught at the soft sincerity in her voice, and suddenly Marianne found her comfortable little nook of scales pulling away from her. She reached for him, giving a dismayed noise that quickly became a surprised huff as Bog’s long fingers curled along her face, tilting her head up to him. “Bog, what…?”

Any further surprise or protest from Marianne melted away into a soft hum of pleasure as Bog brought her in for a kiss, soft as the fall of snow, warm as the glow of the fire…

Marianne’s eyes sank closed, and she twined her arms around him as she deepened the embrace, clinging close as ivy…

A different sort of fire began to smolder in front of the hearth, moss and furs and clothing moved aside and rumpled further, and it was with heat and trust and love that the Bog King of the Dark Forest and the Crown Princess of the Fairy Kingdom welcomed the dark of Winter, the darkness that had gifted them such  _warmth_.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everybody =)


End file.
